Who Do I Admire the Most?
by sbrianson
Summary: Ron's homework assignment causes him to take stock of his feelings for a certain special someone. Contains implied slash and incestuous thoughts.


Who Do I Admire the Most?

By Stan Brianson

Ron Weasley ?

Rating: "R" – for language and implied incest.

DISCLAIMER: This story is fictional – that's F-I-C-T-I-O-N. It never happened, and is not real. It is the product of my own imagination. It contains descriptions of male slash (that's male/male homosexual relations). If you do not like this type of content, or if you find homosexuality or its practice offensive, please click the "Back" button or close your Internet browser NOW, and do not read any further. All characters and copyrights are owned by J.K Rowling and Warner Brothers™ (AOL Time Warner), but this story is owned by me and is all my own work.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story also contains implications of incest. Although there is no action taken on this theme whatsoever, some readers may nevertheless find it disturbing. If you are likely to be upset by this matter, please hit the "Back" button now. The Author would also like it to be known that he neither condones nor condemns incestuous relationships. Thank you, and enjoy the story.

* * *

REFERENCE: "Admire" Əd′maıər – Verb. To respect and approve of someone or their behaviour, or to find someone or something attractive and pleasant to look at.  
_The Cambridge Advanced Learner's Dictionary, Cambridge University Press_

_

* * *

Oh, Merlin, I am in __so_ much trouble. 

Oh, Merlin, I am in much trouble. 

Why? Why did this have to happen to me?

_ican'tdothisican'tdothisican'tdo…_

Why did Mum always teach me to never ever tell a lie?

_pleasehelpmepleasepleaseplease…_

Whodoi – what!

Admire? Define admire then…

Okay. Admire. Verb. To respect and approve of someone or their behaviour, or to find someone or something attractive and pleasant to look at.

Oh. _Great_.

I am in _so_ much trouble. I can't even do my homework. Ha! Sounds pathetic, doesn't it, eh? But I can't. Well, I _can_, I just don't want to. What a dilemma! How stupid does that sound! I could do it easily – it's just half a roll of parchment. Bugger that, I could write a hundred rolls of parchment! But I couldn't hand it in. What would everyone think of me if they read it?

Anyway. History of Magic. Our homework is an essay. Just a short one, nothing huge. It's entitled "_Who do I admire the most, and why?_". Sounds simple, huh! Well, that sort of depends on your point of view, doesn't it. I suppose I could write about _any_ important historical figure, like Godric Gryffindor – brave and loyal, all qualities I admire – or then again, someone like Dilys Derwent, you know, the healer who became Headmistress of Hogwarts for a bit. Couldn't I. Just pull some bullshit piece of bollocks out of by arse to shut Professor Binns up. Let's face it wouldn't be the first time I've done that! Remember those sodding dream diaries we had to keep in Divination? You think those were anywhere _near_ my real dreams?

But I was brought up properly. I may not have much money, but I've got _family_, I've got _values_, and above all else, I know right from wrong. And I was brought up never to tell a lie. Never. Lying is a _bad_ thing, and a liar will _always_ be found out – it's always just a matter of time before he slips up. I admit – Professor Trelawney is a law unto herself and so all rules change. But when it comes to sharing your deepest, darkest, most shameful, most _secret_ secret that you ever dared keep a secret… I don't know, I just can't do that.

Well, I've written the essay in my head, but I _certainly_ couldn't record it in any way that another person could understand.

You see, the person who I admire the most is neither historical nor important. He's just an ordinary, common-as-muck man. Good with figures, with a very keen intellect. A man who seems to be stuck in a rut in a dead-end job, but if you just _knew_ him then you would know that he could get any job he wanted – especially with _those_ OWLs and NEWTs! – but is just too happy in his current career. A man you would never usually meet or even know about, but you rely on this man and his work for everyday life to keep running as it does, without even knowing what he looks like, never mind knowing what his name is.

But _I_ know his name…

An old-fashioned, traditional name, given a modern context…

But that is in his working life. When he gets home he actually becomes a different man altogether. He's one part of a very close family. Just one part, although just looking at him you know that the tired old cliché is true – the smallest cog is just as important as the control panel of a machine. And it's a firm value that he staunchly believes in. "Your elder, but your equal" is one of his favourite phrases. Very noble, very… _admirable_.

He's _always_ so very cheerful, and he radiates his permanent good moods wherever he goes. Sort of like an anti-dementor or something. I dunno… He just has to walk into the same room as you to make your day, to make you feel as if you'll never feel gloomy again. And that's when he's having a supposed _bad_ day!

He's the pillar of strength, of wisdom, of… of _fabulous goodness_, for fuck's sake! When I feel low, or upset, he just tells me to "cheer up, it might never happen!" and I _do_, because it is an instruction from _him_! But he walks in and flashes me that grin, that grin which _does things _to me… That grin which makes me feel so warm and tingly inside. And then, he slips me a wink. That wonderful, marvellous _wink_. The wink that makes me want to run somewhere private so I can think of him as I want him to think of me, but can't – we both live in a very crowded house, and on one hand to stand up _would_ let me leave the room, but on the other hand it would also be a sure-fire way to cause a nasty case of acute embarrassment. Instead, each time, I have to settle for holding a Cannon's book in front of my trousers, the colour of my face trying to match the colour of my hair but ending up clashing oh so horribly…

It's ridiculous, isn't it? That I should feel this way about him? It's not because he's a _man_, oh no! I resigned myself to _that_ inevitability two years ago. But it's just that… _he's one of my own_. And isn't that just so _wrong_?

I shouldn't be feeling this way. I shouldn't…

Can't…

Mustn't…

_Won't_…

_Why can't I help it?_

Oh, shit. What have I got myself into? Why couldn't I have fallen in love with someone _else_? Why couldn't he be tall, dark and handsome like in the fairy stories,

(_why settle for dark and boring when you can have red and exciting?_)

who's sensitive,

(_right again_)

caring,

(_stirrrrr-ike threee!_)

with a great sense of humour,

(_check!_)

who'd get on great with my family and friends,

(_do we _really_ need to go on?_)

my age,

(_what does a little age gap matter?_)

and didn't make everything so fucking complicated!

(_ah, good point, Ronald_)

Family members are supposed to love each other, right? Then why does this feel so wrong?

Probably because you shouldn't feel that you want to make love to them, that's why. And of _all_ of them, why the bloody Hell did it have to be _him_? Ah, let's see, now. Charlie; _rough hands, not enough in common, never bonded much cos he spent too much time playing quidditch before he went to Romania_. Percy; _because, essentially, he's a shit. 'Nuff said_. Fred or George; _too busy playing pranks. Anyway, I wouldn't get a look-in, they're too busy spending time with each other to play with "Ickle Ronnikins"_. Ginny; _eurggh! Come _on_! She's a girl! Now be serious_.

But, my B –

(_don'tsayitdon'tsayitdon'tsayit_)

They say that it's easy to _fancy_ someone, to be _fond_ of someone, to like someone _in that way_. But to _love_ someone, you've got to see all of their bad points in a good light. To see past them all. Well, I've seen him at his best. I've seen him at his worst. I've even seen him starkers! Well, of course I have. In such a close family with so much testosterone bouncing off the walls, modesty has never been much of a strongly enforced point at The Burrow. And _that_ sight, well! Let's just say that _that_ part of him _certainly_ doesn't disappoint! The sight of his bits and pieces dangling in front of me… does_ things _to me that even the power of the sly wink at me over the dinner table can't even muster.

And when he tells me that he loves me! For the love of the fucking _Stars_! Even though I know he doesn't mean it the way that I want him to. Can _never_ mean it the way I want him to. Because on that front, he's only got eyes for one person. And a _woman_, no less.

_My elder, but my equal…_

Then why do I feel so inferior?

He once told me that I could ask him anything and he'd always speak nothing but the truth; that I could tell him anything I wanted to, and that he'd always love me, always be there for me, no matter _what_.

I wonder what he'd say if I told him the truth. That I love him. That I _really_ love him. In _that_ way.

My B –

I love him so much that it hurts. It physically hurts. So much that I think that I will die if I don't get to be held in his arms, his strong, muscular, protective arms surrounding me like a cocoon of affection. Him kissing me, whispering in my ear words which are only ever meant for me and which nobody else will ever, _ever_ hear, _making love to me_… And I will wither and fade away like a dying swan if he rejects me.

And so I remain here. In this wretched state of limbo. Too terrified to tell him how I feel. Terrified of rejection. Terrified of success – oh, Merlin, what would happen if anything ever _did_ happen between us? I shudder to think of the repercussions that could have. It would hurt _so_ many people. I don't want to do that either.

Better to turn away, run away, fade away…

Better that it is only _me_ who is hurting so badly inside. Better that nobody feels the pain that I do. Better I keep it all locked up inside me, throw it all on a bonfire, where nobody can ever see it and nobody will ever get burned.

_Who do I admire the most…?_

My B –

I admire him. I admire him. Oh, Merlin, I admire him and more, more, _so much more_!

My elder, but my equal…

If he only knew…

_whymewhyhimomerlinomerlinofuckohelpmehelpmewhywhywhy?_

My B –

_don'tsayitsayitdon'tsayitsayit_

I want him. I need him. I live for him. I live _because_ of him. Please. Please? _Please!_

I love him so badly I feel I'm going to ignite, physically _combust_! I'm going to burst into such a brilliant, bright, burning ball of flames, he fills me with so much passion, joy, admiration, _love_…

_My B –_

damnedifidodamnedifidon't

_don'tmakemepleasedon'tmakemeican'tdothispleasepleasedon'tmakeme…_

It's so wrong. It feels so right and yet it's wrong, it's wrong on so many levels…

_My B – _

yesnoyesnoyes

_My Beloved…_

No! Yes! Yes…

_Arthur…_


End file.
